I did not post yesterday. The day sort of got away from me, and by the end, I thought to myself, "Eh, I don't want to post."
After I got home yesterday, I took a nap with the windows open. I was asleep for a couple of hours, and I was groggy all night long. Sort of a blah ending to a blah day. But the traffic noise, with people coming home, reminded me of some summer experiences.
Okay, the rest of this post is not work safe (but since it is all text, you can leave now and no one will be the wiser). I was debating whether to write it, but I thought, eh, why not.
My aunt and uncle had a summer house in a small town a couple of hours from where we life. Every summer, we would travel to the house and spend time there. It was for lazy summers. We would bike ride in the mornings, and by 10:00 am, it started getting hot. We would come in for lunch, and lunch took more than an hour to finish. Lots of people making sandwiches and the like, eating potato chips (something we were not allowed to have regularly during the school year), making Kool-Aid.
After lunch, we would watch a soap opera, and then all of us would nap at 1:00. Since there were so many in the house, I would sneak out to the detached garage. There was a one room studio off of the garage, and I would sleep there.
When I was sixteen or so, I would have the window open but lock the door. I had just learned the art of pleasing myself, so I would slip off my shorts and panties and begin to finger myself. I would think of boys I had met that summer, fingering myself and listening to the occasional car race by on the country road nearly outside the window.
I would lick my finger, than let it work itself, slowly at first, and then faster, and I would always end up quivering after an intense orgasm. I don't know if it was listening to the traffic, the thought I might get caught, or just the guilt of a Catholic girl in the summer heat. Whatever it was, I enjoyed those pre-nap rituals.
Afterwards, I would put my panties and shorts back on, and I would unlock the door and drift to sleep. And sometimes I would wake up with the blahs, if I slept too long. But it was summer, and after another bike ride or a stroll through the woods, my head would clear and I would return to my family. And no one knew about my little fingering sessions. In fact, I forgot about them until hearing the sounds of the cars coming home from work yesterday reminded me. The mind can sometimes connect dots that are not normally connected. Traffic and an open window. Who would have thought?
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